


That Which The Bystander Owes

by Muffinpughugs



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bridge - Freeform, Crush at First Sight, Depressed Dirk Strider, Gender Neutral Pronouns, Gender Neutral Reader Insert, Gum - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt, Love at First Sight, Other, Reader-Insert, Suicidal Reader, Suicide Attempt, Suidical Dirk Strider, Urban Life, depressed reader, gender neutral reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:35:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26079601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muffinpughugs/pseuds/Muffinpughugs
Summary: TW// Suicide attempt, depression, depressed thinking and faulty thought process, gum (is that food??? idk)You've had enough of everything, you're prepared to take your life.But what if a bystander wanted to take his too?
Relationships: Dirk Strider/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 41





	That Which The Bystander Owes

**Author's Note:**

> i am in NO WAY trying to romanticize depression/suicidal thoughts. please call a hotline if you are experiencing anything of the sort, get the help you need! its important to stay healthy! drink some water, take some deep breaths, get the sleep you need. i care about you!!! <3

You weren’t lost, per se. You were simply wandering. The lonesome late hours of the street buzzed with electricity and silence, the bustle of the city long ebbed away into the darkness encompassed in an urban thrum. It was nice out here. Nobody was around to bother you. At least, nobody but yourself. 

The lights dimmed as you reached the outskirts of the city. The roads underneath your feet turned grey and pale, gravely and worn. The distant chorus of water flowing rapidly reached your ears as you walked forth towards the bridge connecting the city to the land apart. You sigh, taking in the vast horizon of trees and street lights across the river.

“Five more minutes,” you say to nobody in particular. An encrypted phrase, but those who know would know. As such do you know that you know you know. And you know nobody is listening. And so you speak to no benefit and no detriment.

You continue along your predestined path, destiny being your own thoughts and your suffering a pen of which to write with. Fabricated stories lined up, and you are the finale. Of course, plenty could change in such little time, but enough of your own grandeur. You step foot onto the bridge.

A chill defines your mind, wind stroking along the reinforced steel beams of the suspension bridge, and against you. The night remained silent. No cars. Nothing was stopping you. You were alone, and for once in your life, you were thankful. You were thankful for your lonesome, for your defying characteristic of scaring people off. You were grateful your plans would hold steady. You walked along the bridge. Wind blew through you.

You stopped in the middle of the bridge, staring into the horizon. You sighed, letting out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. Shakily, you climbed over the railing of the road that ran along the bridge, clambering onto the concrete block. You held onto a cable, looking out over the river. It coursed beneath you, rushing with fervor. You swallowed, pulling out a piece of paper and tape. You tore off some tape, attaching the note the best you could to the cable. 

“One minute,” you spoke once more, only to yourself. You shuddered at the wind, cold, and seeping into your skin. Holding onto the cold metal didn’t help, so you balanced yourself and let go. You stared out at the horizon, contemplating nothing yet everything at once, your thoughts cavalcade inside you. You sobbed, tears rolled down your face and yet you were solemn. You knew what you had to do, and you knew you had the strength to do it. Cries wracked your body. You hunched over, looking into the river. Composing yourself, you took one last look at your note. You looked down at your hands, and onto the horizon. 

“Hey.” You jumped, startled, grabbing onto the cable to steady your legs. You twisted your head around, seeing a shorter man in sharp sunglasses. “Whoa, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” He spoke softly. The man stepped over the railing, and you shook, scooting backwards as much as space allowed you. “Hey now, I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t want to scare you either.” The man maintained his distance, now leaning against the railing. You sobbed silently, breaking down and kneeling on the concrete.

“I’m so sorry I’m so sorry I’m so sorry I- I need to do this. I need you to go so I can do this alone, I don’t want to leave you here to watch me. I don’t want a stranger mourning over me when I don’t deserve to be mourned over I-” The man reached out his hand slowly as if he were testing a feral dog.

“Please don’t freak out, fuck, I don’t want that. Deep breaths,” He said. “Here, I’ll breathe with you if it helps. I just need you to calm down for me, please?” You nod, closing your eyes and breathing in and out with a quick pace. Your breathing evens out after a few moments, and you open your eyes to see the man in front of you. He smiles. “Thank you, you’re doing great so far. Stay with me please, I’m honestly no good at this sort of thing.” You crack a small smile at his humor, lips dry and eyes still watery. Under the street light you could swear you saw a bit of a blush radiating off of his face. “You have a beautiful smile, you know that? It’s adorable,” He added. You shook, still breathing deeply.

“T-thank you,” you spoke. He nodded, the corners of his mouth perking up. 

“You’re welcome, dear. If you’re alright with that name, of course. I don’t have your real name yet.” He walked up next to you, looking at the note. “(Y/N), is it? Beautiful name for a beautiful person like you.” You stammered for a moment, before thanking him and apologizing to him. “Oh shit, am I overwhelming you? Sorry, I do that sometimes. I’m honestly shit at any kind of talking in general. I always manage to fuck everything up just by being there and honestly I don’t see why people would eve- oh god oh fuck sorry I was blabbering again I’m sorry did you need to interject?” He spoke. You giggled.

“It’s ok,” you said. “I honestly need to get back to what I was doing, though. It was nice to meet you.” You turned back over to the horizon. “Please go,” you whispered. He stood there for a moment, contemplating. He walked up to the edge with you.

“If you go, then I go too,” he stated flatly. You shook your head rapidly.

“No, no, no! You’re just a bystander, I don’t know what kind of life you have but I’m sure it’s worth it! I’m the one who deserves this,” you explained. He nodded.

“That’s exactly how I feel about you, (Y/N).” He pulled out a note from in his pocket, and you immediately understood. 

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, please don’t, oh god-” He put his hand on your shoulder, sighing. 

“You saved my life, you know.” He shuffled almost uncomfortably. “If you weren’t here, I would have been dead by now. You gave me a different perspective, that of the bystander. I at least owe you something. A talk, maybe? We could talk it out?” You sighed, looking at him and then back to the river. If anything, you could always come back tomorrow, he seemed interesting enough. Why would he wear sunglasses in the middle of the night? You had a lot of questions.

“A-alright, that’s fine.” You stepped down and sat on the concrete ledge, facing towards the road. The man joined you.

“So, err…” he trailed off. “I forgot I’m no good at small talk, honestly, I should think sometimes.” You giggled.

“It’s ok, It’s something we have in common. I honestly either don’t talk or talk nonstop. It’s an issue,” you say. He smiles.

“Same here, (Y/N). Same here. The name’s Dirk, by the way. I don’t think I’d given you my name yet.” He shoved the piece of paper back into his pocket. You nodded.

“Dirk… I like that name. It’s powerful but short, like a knife,” You state. Dirk kicks his legs, swinging them.

“It is. Quite literally, too. Dirk’s the name of a scottish kind of dagger-knife-thing. But it’s mostly known as just a name,” he explains. You look at him intently. “Blades are pretty cool, but swords are my thing mostly.” 

“Do you fence or is it like a special interest thing?” You ask, genuinely curious.

“Mostly a special interest kind of thing. But not fencing, Iaido and Kendo. Iaido in my spare time, Kendo is a more competitive thing I like to do. Both are kinds of Japanese sword fighting. Real swords aren’t used though, just replacements made of bamboo or some kind of wood for Kendo, those swords are called Shinai. Iaido uses blades but without the sharp edge. Still hurts like a bitch if it hits you, though,” he noted. 

“What’s the difference between the two?” You question.

“Kendo is more the Japanese equivalent to fencing, both stem from samurai times. It’s basically martial arts mixed with fencing. Iaido is like a quick draw thing with no real opponent. Just how well you can draw the sword to defend yourself, basically.” You nodded, grinning.

“That’s awesome! You seem really cool, Dirk!” You exclaim. Dirk shrugs.

“Only sometimes. I think you’re pretty cool yourself.” You shake your head in disbelief.

“No way, you hardly know anything about me! How could you know that?” You ask.

“Well, for starters, you seem pretty independent. I like that in a person. It means they’re strong. You must be strong if you’re still here with me,” Dirk states. You sigh.

“Maybe I don’t wanna be here.” You look up at the sky above you, clouds rolling over across the moon.

“Then staying makes you even stronger,” he points out. You shrug, looking back down at your feet. You try to make an argument, but fall flat.

“I guess you’re right.” He smiles. You bounce your leg anxiously. Dirk rummages once more through his pockets, and pulls out a small stick. Was he offering you a cigarette? No, that doesn’t look like a cigarette.

“Want some gum? Chewing it helps me when I’m anxious. You should try some, it’s good. Orange flavor, on the house.” Dirk holds his hand out to you, a small stick of silver wrapped gum in it. It didn’t look tampered with, and you trusted Dirk.

“Thanks, Dirk.” You take the piece of chewing gum from him, unwrapping it and popping it in your mouth. The taste of sharp citrus hits your tongue. In a way, the taste reminds you of him. Sharp and cunning, yet sweet and meaningful.

The two of you sit there for a while in silence, taking in the moment. A few minutes ago, you might have been dead if it weren’t for him. And he might have been dead if it weren’t for you. You couldn’t believe you almost did that. What the hell were you thinking? There are people who care about you, your friends and to an extent your family, the barista at the coffee shop down the street who remembers your order, the landlord who let you wait a day to pay bills because of a late check, they all care to an extent. And Dirk cares too, even if you just met, he feels like an old friend. You look back at him, and he’s looking out along the edge of the trees and the river on the other side of the bridge. You stand up.

“Thank you, Dirk. You have no clue how much that meant to me,” you say, smiling. He copies your smile, chuckling and standing up as well.

“No problem. I owe you my life, quite literally.” The two of you vault over the railing and walk along the sidewalk.

“Well, I owe you mine too, so I guess we’re even now,” you claim. He shrugs before nodding and pointing towards the city.

“We both have places to be, yes?” He questions. You nod, looking to the side.

“Yeah, I’ll miss you.” Dirk cocked an eyebrow, before his eyes shot open.

“No way in hell I’m letting you get away that easy. You still got that wrapper?” You nod, raising an eyebrow. Dirk took a pen out from his pocket and wrote something on it before handing it back to you. “There’s my pesterchum. Give me a buzz if you need anything in the world, and I’ll be there before you can quote Gurren Lagann!” He exclaims. You giggle, glancing at the paper, which read ‘timaeusTestified’. “That’s an anime, by the way.” 

“I know, Dirk. I know.” He beams before starting to walk away off the bridge with you.

“So, I guess I’ll see you sometime soon? Hopefully not for the same reason, of course.” You nod happily.

“Sure thing! I think you’re really sweet and I’d love to get to know you!” You remark. Dirk does a little skip in his step.

“You too! Are you free tomorrow? I’d love to try that noodles place downtown,” he suggests. You smile and nod.

“I’m free! And I’ve seen some reviews, it seems worth a shot!” You mention. Dirk laughs and holds out his hand for you. This time, the hand is free of gum.

“Make it a date?” Dirk ran his free hand through his hair nervously.

“It’s a date!” You exclaim, taking his hand. You both smile, leaning into each other. Whether friends or possibly lovers, two lives were saved that night. That which the bystander owes will always amount to something meaningful, no matter the circumstance and no matter the cost. 

The two of you walk together, hand in hand, off the bridge and back into the city. A note taped to the cable of a bridge falls off and flies into a river. You feel alive.


End file.
